There was this one time in high school when this really insecure skinny kid brought theses yellow-tinted "inside" shades into school. He was one of those backstreet, all-for-one kinda looking guys. Anyway, he brought his shades into school and they were all super-glued b/c he had previously broken them. Regardles, he had been rocking them all day. Well, he had set them down, in class, and the hot chick from school came and picked up his shades, which were in a sense a tangible reflection of his own true level of confidence (super-glued at best). Anyway, she picks up the shades and then they break. of course. HE gets up and starts yelling at her for like a good 10 minutes about how you don't touch peoples stuff and blah blah blah. Everyone else in the room was like "i see the point that you are trying to make, man, but they are just plastic shades." THIS guy, however, was on the verge of tears. It was as though the epitome of that which he lacked confidence around was the very person to destroy those shades. I stood there without a sound. I listened thru the entire 10 minute barrage as she did, basically staring at him with a dropped jaw. I didn't say a word. It was pain for me to listen to that poor bastard cry about plastic shades, but i couldn't stop it. That is EXACTLY how i felt when i watched this film.
Review of A Day Without a Mexican
